


What Once Was

by Bemused_Writer



Series: Follow the Grey [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Gen, Pre-Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bemused_Writer/pseuds/Bemused_Writer
Summary: When Merrill is given to Clan Sabrae she isn't sure how she should feel. She finds it difficult being the keeper's First but she finds some small comfort in her friendship with Mahariel.





	What Once Was

**Author's Note:**

> I know Merrill actually joined Clan Sabrae at a much younger age but for the sake of the story I'm changing it so she was older.

Merrill shifted nervously as she helped set up camp. Her clan would be at the _Arlathvenn_ soon, the gathering of all Dalish clans. It was an enormous event that happened only occasionally as it was difficult to maneuver that many elves without drawing unnecessary attention from the humans. Merrill had never attended before but that was only due to how infrequent they were. Merrill was terribly excited; she’d barely been able to sleep on account of how much she’d been thinking of it.

It was true that the clans tended to only meet up when something was wrong or some other matter of great import had occurred but to see so many of her people in one place was enough to override any of her concerns. Merrill had no idea what the matter could be regardless; no one had deemed it necessary to tell her. That was often the case and she tried not to think on it much; it only upset her. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder.

 _Perhaps the humans have been taking too much notice to us,_ she considered. She remained unconvinced though; even she would have noticed something like that.

Regardless, they’d been traveling for days until the familiar mountains of Nevarra transitioned into the less familiar muddy terrain of Fereldan. Travel itself wasn’t anything unusual; the Dalish had to move constantly to avoid notice but this was a harder journey than most. Thankfully they hadn’t encountered many _shemlen_ along the way. The Chantry had no love for how highly they regarded mages among their people or for elves more generally.

They made camp by a small creek. They still had two days worth of journeying yet before they reached the gathering. Merrill stretched out her back, reaching for the sky. The air was wonderfully fresh and the warmth of the sun eased the ache in her shoulders from lugging around her staff all the time. She loved having the Gift but staves were _heavy._ Her own had been crafted from the bark of a birch tree for its adaptable nature and she’d imbued it with a touch of her own magic, dedicating it to Dirthamen, Keeper of Secrets. He had given the gift of knowledge to the elvhen and Merrill could admit that knowledge was one of the few things she held dear. It was one of the few possessions she could really count as her own.

As she continued her stretching, she was approached by Keeper Aren. She looked wearier than she had only a year ago, Merrill was certain of it. Life was difficult for the Dalish but today there was clearly something on her mind and Merrill knew it had something to do with her. Her heart sank.

“I need to speak with you,” she said without preamble.

“Of course!” Merrill paused in her movements but she only shook her head.

“Not here. Follow me.”

Feeling decidedly nervous now Merrill did so. The keeper brought her to her tent to the side of the rest of their clan.

“Is something wrong?” Merrill took in the keeper’s possessions. They were few like everyone else in the clan. That was the way of the Dalish: have only what you truly needed. There were a few tools and the keeper’s own staff along with a mat for sleeping.

“No, not wrong. You may be called to do something great, Merrill, but I won’t lie. You may have a hard time fulfilling your duty.” The keeper’s gaze was intense and Merrill suddenly knew exactly what this was about.

“It’s Clan Sabrae, isn’t it?” Suddenly it all made sense. Merrill had overheard Keeper Aren discussing Sabrae not too long ago with her First. He had said someone would need to fulfill the role. They’d gone quiet once they’d seen Merrill but she’d felt uneasy ever since. So, it wasn’t anything to do with the _shem_ at all but the fact that no one in Clan Sabrae had any magically inclined elves whatsoever.

“Yes, though you shouldn’t know that already,” she said mildly. “They need a First. You are by far the most talented mage I’ve seen in years. You would be perfect and I will be recommending you. What do you say?”

Merrill didn’t want to. She wasn’t the most sociable person to begin with. She barely spoke with anyone outside her own parents and they had died several years ago now. The idea of navigating an entirely new clan without knowing anyone there was daunting to say the least. She wouldn’t have anyone.

“Don’t look so crestfallen, child. I think it could do you some good. I think you need a new start.”

“Why?” Merrill’s voice came out shakier than she would have liked.

“Ever since the incident with your parents you’ve been terribly quiet. I think we remind you too much of the past. This will be good for you.” Merrill wanted to say it hadn’t been an “incident;” they had simply died but it didn’t seem like it would do much good to argue about it.

Her eyes were hard even though her words could have been considered kind.

“Do I have any choice?” Merrill said, only a touch of dread coloring her words.

“I’m afraid not, _d’alen_.”

“Then I’ll be sure to be ready.”

Merrill left the tent quickly, refusing to look back. It was impossible to have any real privacy, she caught several of her clan members looking at her, some with pity others simply sad, and she realized everyone already knew she was leaving. She was the last to find out.

Their gazes were like a brand upon her as she hastily ducked into her own tent and packed everything. Perhaps it was petty. She barely had anything to begin with but why allow herself to be comfortable when she wouldn’t even be here much longer? She closed the knapsack and sat back on her knees. _The knapsack looks so lonely,_ she thought idly. She looked around her tent. It also seemed lonely. There wasn’t anything that really felt like hers aside from her staff. They only had a few hours before they’d be off once more. She considered what she wanted to do in the meantime. Ultimately, she decided to rest. She would be busy soon enough.

Everything went by in a blur after that. Merrill could barely remember the rest of the journey she was so preoccupied with thoughts of her new clan and the utter neutrality her own clan viewed her with. There was a growing sense of bitterness every time she thought of her parents and the keeper. They had never gotten along. Merrill had been too young to understand what the matter was but she suspected it has something to do with her. Keeper Aren hadn’t chosen her for her First even though she was, as she said, one of the most talented mages she’d seen.

Merrill suspected the problem was that she wasn’t very good with people. She didn’t know what her parents had thought. Perhaps they’d disagreed. She hoped they had.

By the time they got to the _Arlathvenn_ in the dead of night Merrill wished she could simply leave. She didn’t want to go back with her own clan but she wasn’t keen on joining Clan Sabrae either. Why did they have to summon all the clans simply because one didn’t have a First anyway?

The gathering was enormous as she knew it would be but it made her shoulders tense up all the same.

She wandered away from her own clan and began taking in the sights. The actual discussion of events wouldn’t begin for a while yet. Instead, everyone would take time to trade their wares and gossip about more mundane matters.

She was forced to admit the gathering was beautiful regardless of her own personal feelings on the matter. The stars shone especially bright above the canopy of branches and torches had been set up to light the way. Merrill paused to look at one of the merchant’s carved halla. It was beautiful. She wished she could have one of the little figurines as a reminder of the good side of her people. She nodded to him and carefully extricated herself from the crowd.

She found a tree stump not too far away and settled herself on it, trying not to look too much like the picture of misery and offered a prayer to Mythal. She would need protection and guidance soon, she was sure of it. She felt a gentle breeze; perhaps it was an acknowledgement of her needs.

“Not much into crowds, I take it.”

Merrill started. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching at all! She looked up to meet the steady gaze of what was surely a hunter of one of the clans. Despite it being a peaceful event she had two daggers at her hips and she was adorned in leather armor. It was hard to tell in the darkness but Merrill supposed her hair was probably auburn. It was in a practical bob cut regardless and Merrill was suddenly glad they were on the same side. Something about her seemed dangerous.

“Oh, no, I suppose not…” Merrill had no idea what she was supposed to say to this strange woman but suddenly she was sitting across from her, clearly not intending to leave anytime soon. Merrill wondered if she could come up with some excuse to leave without it being horrendously rude.

“Are you Merrill?”

Did everyone know about her? What had the keepers been saying about her? Her stomach churned uneasily.

“Yes. Who are you?”

“Mahariel. Er, Mirithie Mahariel, but everyone just calls me Mahariel.” For a brief moment she looked uncomfortable. The distant light of the fires reflected in her eyes.

“It seems like a nice name,” Merrill said politely. She just shrugged in response.

“I guess it is. So, are you looking forward to … this?” She gestured at the large gathering. Several people had begun dancing and a rollicking tune was being played.

“I was but now I’m not so sure,” Merrill admitted.

“Why not?” Mahariel leaned forward, curiosity written all over her face. Well, Merrill could relate to that emotion if nothing else. She was curious all the time. She considered her for a moment. She didn’t know her and she was certainly … odd but there was something about her that seemed trustworthy all the same. Perhaps it was simply that she was bothering to take the time to ask Merrill anything without any ulterior motive. It was refreshing after speaking with the keeper.

“The keeper of my clan will be giving me to Clan Sabrae soon. I don’t think she will miss me. I’m not sure I’ll miss her either but I don’t like being treated like some kind of item to be traded at will.”

“Hmm, won’t several people be considered? It won’t just be you.”

Merrill blinked. Ah, that would explain why they were having a whole _Arlathvenn_ as opposed to merely sending Merrill over. She felt a tad foolish; how arrogant must she seem to act as though she were certain to be sent away?

Just as she was about to apologize Mahariel raised her hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. To be honest, it probably will be you.”

“Oh,” Merrill stuttered, “how do you know?”

Mahariel tilted her head slightly in consideration. “Call it a hunch.”

That simply didn’t ring true at all and Merrill scrunched her nose in consternation. “Which clan did you say you belonged to?” Merrill said, suddenly suspicious.

“I didn’t,” she twitched slightly, “but, uh, it might be Sabrae.”

“By the Dread Wolf, why didn’t you say something?”

“I was hoping to get to know you better before the keepers began discussing the situation in earnest,” Mahariel admitted.

“Whatever for? You’re not your keeper’s First.” Merrill nearly bit her tongue. For all she knew that could be a sensitive topic and here she was antagonizing someone who would soon be kin to her.

“No, that’s true but … I am one of the head scouts of the clan.”

That explained a lot.“You’re trying to determine if I’ll be a problem.” Oh, of course she was.

“What? No!” Mahariel waived her hands urgently. “I just mean that, well, we’d be working together closely. I just wanted to get to know you before that.”

Merrill relaxed slightly. She couldn’t detect any falsehood in her words this time. “Then why do you think I will be chosen?”

Mahariel smiled slightly. It was an unexpected gesture from a woman Merrill had thought looked so severe only moments before and she found herself smiling back.

“I like you. You’re far more honest than the other candidates I spoke with. The others are actively seeking to increase their fortune. You seem like someone who does what’s necessary even if you don’t like it. That’s why you’re all the way here, right? You don’t like the situation but you’ve come to terms with it.”

“I was praying to Mythal,” Merrill admitted. “I was hoping she might grant me some guidance.”

“May I pray with you? It won’t change your fate but it’s been a long time since I’ve taken part in our customs in this way.”

“How come?” That was terribly unusual for someone who had obviously grown up with the Dalish. Whatever Mahariel was she was no city elf.

“I suppose I’ve felt distant from my clan as well. Sometimes I even feel distant from our own people. Maybe it’s just part of the job but don’t you ever think about how there’s so much more out there? The Dalish are too distant. We could do so much more.”

“I don’t know about that. Humans don’t much like us. What would we do?”

“Who knows? It’s just a thought. Maybe I should consider the whole thing a bit more.”

Mahariel removed her holster with the daggers in tow and sat beside Merrill. The two of them were quiet for a long time with only the sound of distant merrymaking filling the air. When the voices began to quiet Mahariel gripped her shoulder gently. “It’s time.”

Merrill nodded but this time there was a smidge less reluctance in her movements. Speaking with Mahariel had somehow eased her nerves. She was an intimidating woman but there was kindness there, too. Merrill studied her as she bent down to retrieve her daggers. She had a lithe form and Merrill suddenly wanted to see it in the daylight. Her features had been difficult to make out but Merrill was sure she must be beautiful.

The meeting went surprisingly swiftly considering how long it took to get to it. The keepers gathered in a Circle while most everyone else either went to bed or stayed up to listen to the proceedings. As Mahariel had predicted Merrill was chosen to be Keeper Marethari’s First. It was a great honor, Merrill knew that, but all she could think was that she was being abandoned and no one cared. She moved away from her clan’s side of the gathering to Sabrae’s to sit next to Keeper Marethari. She hoped they would get along better than she had with the keeper of her previous clan. She tried not to make eye contact with anyone as she sat down and greeted her new clan. Mahariel was kind enough to sit next to her and Merrill hoped she had made at least one friend despite how strange their meeting had been.

It would be an adjustment for sure. Clan Alerion had been … maybe not a home but it had been familiar. She looked over at Keeper Aren and found she couldn’t be angry. No, it was far worse. She felt nothing at all. She’d spent years with them, her parents had been a part of that clan, and she wouldn’t miss them at all.

“It will be all right,” Mahariel murmured quietly.

“Thank you, _falon_.”

The rest of the meeting was spent discussing more mundane matters and how the _shemlen_ were handling the presence of the Dalish in general. Not much had changed overall. Some clans had had more overtly bad experiences of late but for the most part the Dalish were being ignored. It was how they preferred it. Soon it was over and everyone went to bed. Mahariel helped her move her tent over to Clan Sabrae’s area of the clearing.

“You’ll adjust soon enough. We’re grateful to you, you know. None of us have the gift whatsoever. You’re special.” Mahariel offered her that same unsure smile as before.

“I don’t know if I am glad to be special. What is your keeper like?”

“Difficult. She’s wise, certainly, but she is stuck in her ways like most of the Dalish.”

“You don’t speak like anyone back home,” Merrill wondered aloud. “They would never say anything critical of our way.”

“What about you? Are you content with the way things are?”

_No._

“I want to do my duty but more than that I want to restore our history. So much has been lost. It’s painful to think about.”

Mahariel was quiet as she helped set up the tent. “I’ve always been uncomfortable with our history if I’m honest. I don’t want us to be shackled to it, always wishing we were something we no longer are.”

“You don’t wish to see our people restored?” Merrill said angrily, her voice rising slowly.

“I didn’t say that,” Mahariel sighed and Merrill suspected this was something she’d had to say somewhat often, “but there’s a risk, don’t you think? Even if we learn the history we can’t become it. It won’t change how the _shem_ view us and it won’t change our position in their society. Still, I find the subject fascinating when the keeper isn’t trying to hinder me with it and I think our brethren in the cities could benefit from it greatly. I think there’s value to it, regardless of whether I put it to use or not.”

Merrill struggled for a moment to piece together this wholly unexpected viewpoint before finally admitting, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well, I would support any effort to reclaim our history. I just don’t want it to determine who I am. Do you see?”

Merrill nodded slowly in consideration. “I suppose I do. It’s not something I’d ever really considered before. I would do anything to bring back even some of our glory, though. I don’t know if anything would stop me.”

“Good,” Mahariel said unexpectedly. “You’ll be keeper someday. That’s the kind of attitude I would hope for you to have.”

“You’re glad I disagree with you?”

Mahariel let out a laugh. “It’s not a great disagreement, is it? I said I’d support any effort to reclaim our history, regardless of what I may end up thinking of it. You’ll make a good keeper. Your heart is in the right place.”

“Thank you,” Merrill said uncertainly. “I’m glad you’re in the clan, Mahariel. You’ve a unique mind.”

Mahariel gave her a roguish grin. “I’m just a rebel at heart if I’m honest, but thank you.”

It was the first time she and Mahariel spoke of such things but it was far from the last. Mahariel may not have had the gift but she made up for it by having an unusual amount of knowledge of Dalish history despite all her misgivings on that account and she had an intense curiosity about everything. More often than not Merrill found herself explaining everything she’d learned to her not long after she’d learned it.

 _Mahariel probably knows more about the intricacies of magic than any other non-mage,_ Merrill mused.

She wondered if she had wanted to be the keeper’s First and follow in her father’s footsteps. Mahariel spoke only briefly of it, saying she’d never known either of her parents but that she’d heard stories enough to find inspiration through them. Merrill wondered but she couldn’t find it in herself to ask such a personal question; if Mahariel held a grudge she hid it well. She was the only person in all of Clan Sabrae that Merrill felt any form of kinship with and as the years went by Merrill wondered if there was more to it than that.

Mahariel _was_ beautiful as it turned out and just as intimidating as Merrill had thought initially. Thankfully, all her fierceness was directed at those who would wish the clan ill. She was nothing but kind to everyone else if, perhaps, a little blunt on occasion. Mahariel wasn’t always the best at interacting with people, Merrill quickly realized, but she couldn’t begrudge her that. Merrill was, frankly, terrible with people. She got along with Keeper Marethari a little better than Keeper Aren but even so they often had debates about what the clan should do, what route was safest, and whether a given risk was worth it or not.

Mahariel was always in favor of risk.

Merrill had just finished up one of her lessons with the keeper and she found herself on the outskirts of camp, trying to patiently wait for Mahariel’s return. It wasn’t easy.

 She breathed in the cool air and listened to the birds’ songs in an effort to distract herself. There was dew on the grass, soft against her bare feet. It was still so early in the day that the sun had only just risen over the horizon. Most everyone else was still sleeping save for those who cared for the halla or guarded the camp. It was so different here, in Fereldan, compared to Nevarra but she thought she was starting to adjust.

She and the keeper had gone over the different kinds of spirits and the risks of the Beyond that day. It was one of Merrill’s favorite topics, one she had already studied extensively on her own, but she and the keeper had found yet more to disagree on regarding it. She thought back on their conversation with frustration.

“Aren’t spirits like us? Some are good, some are bad, but you should take care around all of them. Any spirit could do harm just as any spirit could do good.”

“Perhaps, child. But I think you miss the fact that some spirits have no interest in doing any good whatsoever. There are things in this world without a single redeeming quality. If you intend to protect the clan you have to be willing to acknowledge that.”

 _She thinks I’m a child,_ Merrill thought bitterly. She knew that there were some things past redemption; it was why people like Mahariel had to protect them in the first place but she thought the keeper was too hasty in her denouncement of so many things. Maybe Mahariel _did_ have a point about being shackled to the past. Keeper Marethari was completely unwilling to consider viewpoints differing from the norm.

Merrill thought of Keeper Marethari’s final words on the matter: _I hope you never find reason to regret that stance._ Merrill would be careful. Maybe she needed to emphasize that more to the keeper. She had no intention of doing anything foolhardy after all. She simply thought it was her duty to consider every option for the sake of the clan.

“Well, if it isn’t Merrill!”

She immediately perked up at the familiar voice. Mahariel had finally returned. Tamlen was right behind her. He gave Merrill a brief nod but otherwise said nothing. The two of them had evidently gone hunting during their excursion as they’d brought a few rabbits back with them. They’d be able to make some soft gloves with the fur.

“I’m glad you’ve returned; there’s so much I want to tell you!”

“I have all kinds of things to tell you as well. Oh, I got some herbs for you as well, actually…”

Tamlen rolled his eyes. “Just hand those over. You two go do whatever it is you’re always up to.”

Mahariel let out a warm laugh that rang through the air like a bell and promptly passed the rabbits on. “You’re a good sport, Tamlen!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Don’t suppose you’ll give our report to the keeper as well?” she said with a wide grin.

“You’re the worst, you know? Fine, I’ll talk to the keeper.”

Once Tamlen was out of earshot Merrill turned to her worriedly. “Was that all right? I don’t want to interfere with your duties.”

She rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Of course it’s all right. Tamlen wants to make a name for himself anyway. What better way than to actually give the bulk of the reports? Besides, you said you had something to tell me and that’s way more fun than discussing how many trees we saw today.”

The two walked over to Mahariel’s tent; Merrill may have finished her training with the keeper for the day but she still had plenty of reading to do and Mahariel said she still needed to get some embroidery in. They decided to make a day of it by doing both together.

She was working on a pair of leather gloves and wanted to add a small dragon to the cuffs. Merrill was more than happy to keep her company; reading was one of her joys but it meant she didn’t spend much time with others once more. At least if she were with Mahariel she wouldn’t be alone. She had several books to get through either way.

They sat together side by side in the now familiar tent, each wrapped up in her own thoughts before Merrill finally set one of her large tomes aside.

“You know, I’m not sure the keeper likes you much more than me. Oh, that sounds horrible, doesn’t it? I’m sorry…”

Mahariel just laughed and set her work down. Merrill noticed she had chosen bright red thread for the dragon. “Don’t be. You’re right, though. She and I have never seen eye to eye. I think she was hoping to find someone who could be molded to her will a little bit better but you’re unexpectedly stubborn. What brought this on, anyway?”

“I don’t mean to be difficult,” Merrill muttered in embarrassment. “It’s just we were talking about spirits today and what is or isn’t in their nature and I just… She’s so willing to see the world as black and white and I just can’t do that. It can’t be like that, surely. And I just want what’s best for our people. I mean, I know I won’t need to deal with spirits all that often but they do possess the trees from time to time and they aren’t so separate from us, are they? Oh, I’m rambling now…”

She kept her eyes downward and picked at the edge of her book. She shouldn’t be so nervous around Mahariel still but if she disagreed with her, told her she was being foolish, she wasn’t sure if she could bear it.

“Oh, Merrill, you’d know better than I.” Her voice was so gentle, as if she knew exactly what Merrill was thinking and she felt her cheeks burn. “I can’t walk the Beyond save for in dreams. I don’t know if all spirits are one way or another but people are people. Some are good, some are bad. You’ve said the Beyond reflects the world of the living, right? Maybe it’s not so different. I’d say you should keep being difficult either way; the keeper needs someone with a little backbone. If what Ashalle says is true, she spent more than enough time challenging my father when he was keeper; she’s earned a little of the same,” Mahariel said mischievously.  “You’re doing your best. You’re picking all of this up way faster than anyone has any right to. Give yourself some credit.”

How did she always know the right thing to say? Mahariel saw the world as a complex, living organism and Merrill wished she was more like her, wished they were all more like her.

“I—I’ll try. I’m rather used to people disagreeing with me. It feels strange having you say things like that.” Strange and wonderful, she didn’t add.

Mahariel shook her head, her eyes distant. “Supportive things? You make me worry about what you’ve gone through.”

“Nothing terrible! I just can’t seem to connect with people. I didn’t get along with the keeper back home and now I’m not getting along with the keeper here. How am I supposed to ever take on this role if I can’t avoid talking in circles with her at every turn?” It was, possibly, Merrill’s greatest fear and it was one she had only ever shared with Mahariel. She couldn’t speak to the keeper of it; there was already too much tension brewing between them.

Mahariel fiddled with her daggers idly, evidently deep in contemplation. She kept them nearby no matter what she was doing, always at the ready for something to go wrong. It was a habit Merrill privately wished she would break but she supposed she was a warrior at heart. If only the world didn’t need people like Mahariel, good people, to spend so much of their time preparing for battle. At last she set them aside and looked Merrill in the eye, her lips twitching ruefully.

“Leadership isn’t about being liked. It helps but ultimately you have to do what you think is right. When Tamlen and I scout ahead he frequently dislikes my decisions. He thinks we should remove all _shemlen_ from the woods, make it clear that this is _our_ territory. There’s something to what he says; they would harbor no regret if we died, after all. Still, what would happen if the neighboring _shem_ found out what we’d done? There would be consequences and they would be far greater than anything we could give them.”

Could she go through life not worrying whether people liked her? She wasn’t sure she could. While it seemed like sound advice Mahariel didn’t have to trouble herself over other peoples’ opinions, regardless of what she may think. She may have gotten into arguments with Tamlen and Keeper Marethari but they ultimately respected her and _listened_ to her. Merrill often thought Mahariel could say just about anything and they would at least consider it.

They didn’t do that for Merrill.

She didn’t voice her discomfort aloud, however. She’d already burdened her with far too much.

“You do so much to keep us safe,” she said instead. “I really admire that about you. You’re so brave and you don’t harbor any doubts—”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Mahariel chuckled. “I just don’t share them. Well, I share them with you. You’re a wonderful listener. I wish the others could see that.”

“It’s kind of you to say.”

“It’s true of me to say. I would tell you the truth regardless of whether it was kind, Merrill. You have my word on that.”

It could have been taken as a threatening statement but this was Mahariel. She spoke her mind. Merrill supposed she would always have her to test her moral compass against. It was strangely reassuring.

It was soon after that day Mahariel and Tamlen went out to scout once more like they always did. Merrill was eagerly awaiting Mahariel’s return as per usual. She was glad Mahariel seemed to appreciate it rather than find it strange. She hadn’t told her just how much her friendship meant to her but someday, if things worked out, she might.

Instead of her friend, however, a strange man approached. He was unusually tall and he had a beard. It took Merrill a moment before she processed what she was seeing: a _shem._

Alarm filled her. He was dressed to the teeth in armor with a sword at his side and he was carrying something over his shoulder. She hastily drew her staff and noticed that her brethren on guard had their bows pointed directly at him as well.

“Please, I do not mean you ill though I bear unpleasant tidings. I’m here to see your keeper and to return a member of your clan.”

With a growing sense of horror Merrill realized the thing over his shoulder was Mahariel.

“What did you do to her?” she cried.

“I have done nothing but we must act with haste or she will die.”

The guards looked at her, silently asking what they should do and Merrill realized she was their leader in this moment. This was what she had been preparing for as the keeper’s First.

“We’ll take you to the keeper. Let him through.”

It was one of the worst moments of Merrill’s life. When he lied Mahariel on a mat for Keeper Marethari to inspect Merrill let out a gasp of horror.

There was something wrong with her face. It was distorted and her veins were beginning to darken and bulge. When the keeper lifted one of her eyelids the iris was milky, glazed over.

Merrill had read of these symptoms before but she had never thought to see them in person. It was the Blight.

“Oh, no,” she said, her voice hushed as if it might spare Mahariel pain.

“Quiet, _d’alen_. I can hold the disease at bay for now but we will need a more permanent solution.” She glanced up at the _shem_ with obvious discomfort. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“My name is Duncan and yes, I am a Grey Warden.”

“For one of you to be about… there’s only one explanation. Leave, both of you. I will need space to heal Mahariel. We can discuss the matter further when I’m finished.”

For once Merrill had no argument for her keeper. She and Duncan both exited and eyed each other warily.

“I’m guessing you are the keeper’s First?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She was surprised he knew anything of Dalish culture but she was already starting to suspect he was an unusual man. “You’re a Grey Warden? Why are you here?”

“I’ve been looking for recruits. A Blight is surely upon us and we Wardens haven’t the numbers to fight it. I had hoped to come to this camp and see whether any of the Dalish would join us for the Wardens care not what your race or creed is. I did not mean to stumble across so unfortunate a circumstance.” He gazed upon the tent sadly but Merrill could see a determined glint in his eyes and she feared what he intended to do.

_Don’t take her away from me. I can’t go through this alone--_

It turned out there wasn’t a permanent cure for the Blight. Merrill had already known that from her studies but to actually hear it was something else entirely.

“The taint is in the blood,” Marethari said sadly. “There’s nothing I can do about that.”

Merrill stormed off without another word. Duncan’s eyes followed her consideringly as she did so. She knew the keeper had to be wrong. There was no such thing as a disease without a cure. Surely, there was something in one of their books on magic that would help, something that would rectify this wrong. Before she knew it she was outside the camp near one of the rivers. She paced up and down the length of it, forcing back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

The problem was in the blood. Merrill gazed down at her hands numbly. The answer must be in the blood as well. But that would mean…

“Merrill.” It was the keeper. Merrill closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. It wouldn’t help to snap at her right now. She needed to focus.

“What is it, Keeper?”

She refused to turn around and face her.

“I said there was nothing I could do to help her, not that there was nothing to be done.”

Merrill balled her hands into fists. “Why didn’t you say so then?”

“You left before I could say anything at all.” Exasperation was clear in her voice and Merrill knew that, once again, the keeper thought she was acting like a child. “I know you care for her but you can’t let this get to your head. Now, return to camp. We have some things to discuss.”

“Fine.” _You would let her die before you considered a single alternative that might help just because it would be “wrong.”_

Duncan’s “solution” was making Mahariel a Grey Warden. The keeper said it would be up to Mahariel when she woke but that the Dalish would be willing to hand her over if it gave her any chance at all. Merrill said nothing. She couldn’t bring herself to think anything of it just yet. The keeper showed Duncan around in the meantime. Merrill could faintly hear them discussing where he would set camp.

She gazed down at Mahariel who looked significantly better after whatever the keeper had done for her but still had not awoken.

She wanted to comfort her even if she wasn’t awake but the truth was Merrill was a little afraid to touch her. She’d never seen Mahariel vulnerable before. It felt decidedly wrong, unnatural even. She prayed to Mythal that Mahariel would make a speedy recovery so they might speak once more.

She decided she would read for now. They had little on blood magic but there was something and it was all Merrill could do to occupy herself. Perhaps Dirthamen would bless her and she would find the knowledge she needed.

A few days later and Mahariel was up and about again as if nothing was wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth. The taint was still running through her veins; she could die at any moment. Merrill tried not to stare at her as though she was a member of the walking dead but it was a difficult instinct to overcome. Mahariel finally found her and it occurred to Merrill that she’d been unconsciously trying to avoid her. Mahariel studied her for a moment before sitting next to her purposefully.

“Sorry for worrying you, Merrill.”

She was sorry for worrying her? It was the exact kind of ridiculous thing Mahariel would say though and Merrill let out a grin. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Then would you accompany me back? We need to see if we can find Tamlen and there’s a mirror that needs sorting out.”

The mirror. Mahariel had spoken to the keeper about it and explained what it may have done. Namely, release darkspawn in their region of the woods. The keeper wanted to ignore it for good, Merrill thought somewhat understandably, but Mahariel insisted it was of elvhen origin and that they should do _something_ about it.

“Of course I’ll come, _falon._ I am … surprised you think we should investigate the mirror more.”

“I know, I feel a little foolish saying it myself,” Mahariel admitted sheepishly, “but this is what being a keeper is all about, right? Remembering the good and the bad? Besides, if we learn of what it did, maybe we can save Tamlen.”

“That seems unlikely,” Duncan said as he approached from around the bend. “I would give up on him if I were you. The darkspawn spare no one.”

“I’m not ready to admit that,” Mahariel sighed. “Regardless, I think you’ll be able to make more out of it than me, Merrill. Let’s go.”

The mirror was fascinating. Merrill was certain it was an _eluvian_ and as such a clear connection to their past. It was as awe-inspiring as it was horrifying.

“Neat, right?”

Merrill almost snorted. It was a wildly inappropriate assessment of the situation and yet somehow fitting.

“You know this is what killed your comrade, don’t you?” Duncan said dryly. “It also released darkspawn.”

Mahariel’s lips thinned. “I’m aware. I warned him not to touch it but… Well, it doesn’t matter now. Why not find the good in the situation?”

“I’m not sure there’s much good to find,” Duncan said.

“No one asked you,” Mahariel said coldly.

“Maybe don’t antagonize him too much,” Merrill said quietly on their way back. Duncan was trailing behind them, obviously keeping an eye out for anything dangerous. “You’re going to be traveling with him soon, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately.” Seeing Merrill’s look Mahariel looked away awkwardly. “I’m not blaming him. I don’t dislike him or anything I just … don’t like my fate being decided for me.”

It was strange to see Mahariel in a situation so similar to her own only a few years ago. She wished she could offer some kind of advice but she knew nothing of what being a Grey Warden entailed.

“I know. But you can’t die and as much as I don’t want you to leave it is necessary. Isn’t it?”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

“You said there has to be more to the world,” Merrill began hesitantly. “Maybe this is your chance to explore it? Do some good?”

“I hope so,” she said quietly.

It was a hard day. The funeral for Tamlen was tragic. Merrill kept glancing over at Mahariel. She stood straight but her jaw was clenched and Merrill knew she was restraining herself immensely.

When it was time for her to leave Merrill embraced her tightly. Mahariel warned her about the _eluvian_ while simultaneously encouraging her to look into it. It was the kind of advice she would give but Merrill wondered if she knew what she was planning. Mahariel wasn’t a mage but she knew the risks the mirror posed and she knew Merrill would do anything to learn more about it. She wouldn’t have her around to help her distinguish right from wrong anymore.

When she was gone Merrill thought about the taint. It was in the blood. Everything about the _eluvian_ seemed to come back to the blood. Perhaps it was because a Blight had begun but there was no denying that there was as much power in blood as there was destruction. It was something worth looking into for Mahariel’s sake and her own.

She’d tell the keeper eventually. She was already unhappy with Merrill’s “fixation on that mirror” but studying it would bring them so much more. Her clan would understand. Someday.

It hurt but she would do right by them. She had to be a keeper on her own terms. It’s what Mahariel would have wanted. And maybe, if all went well, maybe she would see Mahariel again someday, too.

**Author's Note:**

> In Dragon Age 2 you overhear some of the elves talking about how Merrill never got over Mahariel leaving, so I thought it might be interesting to explore that a little bit. I hope you all enjoyed the read; Merrill is a great character, so I hope I did her some justice.
> 
> A quick note on the Dalish in this:
> 
> D'alen: young one  
> Falon: friend  
> Shem(len): human
> 
> If any of it was wrong, let me know. ^^


End file.
